
ECHOES 



FROM 



LIFE 



BY 



ANNIE WEIR YOUNG 



POEMS 



Echoes from Life 



ANMIE WEIR YOUNG 

Q^con, Wev? York 



MIMETEEN HUNDRED SIXTEEN 






CopyrigKt 1916 
B^ AMNIE WEIR YOUNG 

PublisKed. Sept. 1916- 



OCT -6 1916 

©CI.A438738 
"^1 ^ ' 



IM LOVING MEMORY 

OF 

MY FATHER 

DR. JOHN YOUNG 

I DEDICATE THESE 

ECHOES FROM LIFE 



TO MY FATHER 

/^ONE from this world of ours 

Silent and free, 
Only a breath that gave 
Life unto me. 

Words are but fleeting breath 

Echo my cry, 
Silent and unknown death 

Lisps no reply. 

Into the upper air 

Spirit so true, 
Soul of my Father 

No care can pursue. 



Page Si> 



MOTHER 

JX mystic link with ageless time 

Is mother. 
No word of mine will ever rhyme 

With mother. 
A symbol of life and love serene 

Is mother. 
A loyal, loving and legal queen 

Is mother. 
No time of her own by night or day, 
And ready to smile with you alway 

Is mother. 
Oh name ! a whisper of life and love, 
Oh name ! that soars all others above. 

Is mother. 
A selfless w^ord of power supreme, 
A voice that sings on life's dark stream 

Is mother. 
No scales can weigh a loving heart, 
So mother and life can never part. 

For mother 
Must live in your heart forever. 
No power from you her love can sever, 
A mother's love that dieth never, 
Oh, tell me, what power can ever 

Write mother? 
The words of this mystery written for you 
No songs or wild praises can equal the true. 
Oh ! name beyond all mortal power of singing 
Oh mother ! mother ! name down ages ringing. 

Page Seven 



THE BABY 

"DEAUTIFUL eyes of forget-me-not blue, 
Cheeks that hold the tint of roses true, 
Hair spun from sweetest wallflower hue, 
x\nd mouth like a fairy rose bud new. 
Your skin, like freshest sweetest clover, 
Oh ! baby heedless, laughing rover. 
Dimples nov/ playing hide and seek, 
Sometimes in chin and often in cheek. 
A glance from your pure and fearless eyes 
Will teach the one who thinks he is wise. 
Oh ! bab}^ your hands hold hearts forever. 
Mortals can live without you never. 
Come baby and cuddle sweet and w^arm, 
Where love will shield you from all harm. 



Page EigKt 



THE BOY 

"D ESTLESS, eager and, confident too, 

Is the boy; 
And life is a pathway, bright and new, 

To the boy ; 
While stones he flings at all that wings, 

Does the boy, 
He whistles gaily and sometimes sings, 

For the boy, 
To be honest with comrade and mother. 
Must be on the edge with one or the other. 

For the boy 
Learns lessons of profit and loss, 
As pennies go in quick hand toss. 

But the boy 
Is only a man ungrown. 
Coveting all that's not his own. 

To the boy 
Give an object new to his brain, 
His soul will answer in loyal train. 

For the boy 
Does not measure beyond his height. 
He responds to love, each soul aright. 

Does the boy. 
On boys the weight of life must fall,- 
Make them readv to answer the call. 



Page Mine 



THE GIRL 

"OITFUL, uncertain with questioning eyes, 

^ The girl. 

And while she laughs, again she sighs, 

For the girl 
Is searching with wondering gaze. 

To the girl 
Life's ways both perplex and amaze. 

For the girl 
With her wayward and dancing feet, 
To her this life seems most complete. 

For the girl 
With her gay and unconscious ways, 
Never dreams the power her small hand sways. 

For the girl 
Is a poAver from zone to zone, 
She rules dear life from hovel to throne. 

Does the girl. 
Oh ! help her and guide her ye sons of men, 
And show her that love is life's perfect gem. 

For the girl 
Cannot judge of the world's mad ways, 
Like dawning day, she will not stay 

A girl. 
Now women who know" life's pathway drear 
Guide this life, this beautiful girl soul dear, 
So the terrible aching void of fear. 
To her fair young soul may never appear. 



Page Ten 



PAIN 

pAIN with her million knives 

Pierces our mortal flesh, 
In agony wild pain thrives, 

All living sometime she'll imniesh. 

An agent for good and for ill, 
No respecter of ermine or rags, 

She ever will work her strange will 
And oft the proud soul she drags 

In the ashes and dust of despair. 

Th' poppy's a shield for pain's darts, 
But beware of this fickle repair. 

For light sleeps the snake in its heart. 

Intangible ! unseeable pain ! 

A mighty, invisible force, 
That tears at the heart and th' brain 

Till its cries on the wind grow hoarse. 

Patience will help you endure 

When pain with her million knives 

Tears open your life's door — secure 
From this maker and taker of lives. 

We cannot solve pain's mystery, 
But patience and faith will ease 

This dark and gloomy history. 
As sunlight gems grey seas. 



Page Eleven 



LOVE 

A word, so joyous is the sound, 
It seems a melody unbound 
To riot like a fairy elf, 
A dancing with its merry self. 

This word with spirit is so strong 
It wings a way beyond the clouds, 

And so like arrows speed along, 

And thus it is love rules the crowds. 

With its first breath dear love is weak, 
But love — true love has eager wings ; 

It seeks the very highest peak 
Of earth, and there it ever sings. 

Lift up your thoughts. Oh child of earth! 

The gift of love is joy supreme ; 
Love is the power of magic birth 

That makes another soul the dream. 

But love ; true love ! can never die, 
Dear love the spirit reigns forever — 

Mortals may dream and laugh and sigh, 
But love's wild power goes on forever. 



Page T^en 



THE KISS 

'TTHE kiss is elliptical, they say, 

And microbes lurk in its airy way, 
Dear kisses have slipped from lip to lip 
Ever since there was a kiss to slip. 

Now tell, I pray, the reason why 
A kiss is a joy to those who sigh? 
A kiss seems to be a satisfaction. 
From the sanest to the wildest action. 

Just try this process, and you will find. 
The kind just suited to your mind. 
No fear of microbes can down the kiss 
When lips are waiting — just like this. 

A CORNER 

\ corner the lovers find useful and sweet, 

A corner is good, if you're not short on wheat ; 
There are corners and corners, this round world 

all over. 
But a corner in money will bring back the rover ! 

In a corner the bears and the bulls do delight. 
In a corner's a difficult field to fight, 
If you corner the m.arket, some go up the spout — 
Be careful just how you come out of the rout! 

Now money and corners, is an old game. 
To many, just now, it seems far from tame. 
From her corner will money soon slip with grace, 
And lead us again the wildest of chase. 

Page TKirteen 



WHO WON ? 

T OVE nodded his head one ideal day, 

Quoth he: ''I'm out for work, not play, 
These Bachelor girls are gamey, quite, 
They'll find I'm up to them in fight." 

Love sharpened his arrows, flufi'ed his wings, 
He then began to pull the strings; 

On the road of Life he waiting lay, 

For those who laugh at his ceaseless sway. 

Three Bachelor girls, with roguish eyes, 
Declared "That all men they did despise." 

In the eyes of the tallest Cupid looked, 

Softly she whispered : "By Love I'm booked." 

Sweet, and dimpled, with eyes of blue, 
The next one flees, as Love pursues. 

After a chase of months, not years. 
Sly Love found her, drowned in tears. 

Scorn now flashed from th' eyes of th' third, 
Cupid thinks he's a "gay old bird !" 

Love's arrows she parried with wondrous grace, 
Years after, she wondered, who won the race. 



Page Fourteen 



THE TRUE NOTE 

'T^HE music that floats in the air today 

Steals in your heart in a marvelous way, 
It whispers of hope and it echos with love, 
It is audible proof of the world above. 

If you close your ears to the merry song 

The way is difficult, hard and long, 

But echo the cheer you feel in the air 

And the world will be beautiful, sweet and fair. 



KEEP STEP 

T^EEP step in the march of life. 
One halt will queer the line, 
On with the struggle and strife. 
No laurels are Avon by repine. 

This life is a battlefield wild, 
We must be to our standard true. 

'Tis no work for a weary child, 
AVe must fight — both me and you. 

'Tis onward each soul in step, 
O'er morass of woe and despair, 

Without the faintest regret 

For the land that seemed so fair. 

Keep step in the march to-day, 

For this day is a golden time, 
And time is a flashing ray 

With eternity in chime. 

Page Fifteen 



w 



WAITING 

AITING, waiting, waiting! 
How the long hours drag, 
Waiting, waiting, waiting! 
Hope begins to flag. 

Life's a long ache waiting — 
Joy has lost her zest, 
Now your breath is bating. 
Day nor night is rest. 

Fear too, comes with waiting. 
Despair's wild eyes you see 
But love is proved b}^ waiting. 
Love's waiting now for thee. 



YOU 

VrOU are the only one 
■^ To me. 

My horizon and my sun 

You see. 
If you are you to me 
Reflected, do you see 
Deep in your heart, just me? 
You while life doth run 

To me — 
You while breath doth come 

You see ! 
To me, to me! 



Page Sixteen 



FETTERED 

nPHERE is only one man in the world for me, 

A pretty predicament, you can see, 
My soul he holds in his strong, lithe hands 
Fetters more powerful than iron bands. 

AVhy he should fetter my soul like this? 

It's a very mysterious sort of bliss, 
1 will sing my song to a merry tune — 

If my soul answers his like a moon in June. 



WHAT IS REAL ? 

'WT'HEN by sleep my imprisoned soul 

Is released from the w^earisome flesh, 
And I take from dream the sweet dole 
As I ramble mid memories fresh. 

On the wandering winds wild wings 
By mysterious power com.pelled, 
Like a bell my soul now rings 
While no thought for time is spelled. 

I slip over land and wild sea ! 

On the wandering winds swift wings 

To no wisdom I listen — I'm free ! 

Like a spirit, the while my soul sings. 

My soul's chosen mate there I find. 
Amid bliss that this world can not give. 
And the wandering wind, we bind, 
While we whisper — We live, we live ! 

Page Seventeen 



A REMINDER 

^PHY spirit calleth unto mine 
In this weary land of time 
Dost thou hear the spirit call 
Wrap thy soul in its soft thrall? 
I love thee now and always will, 
Through wrong and right, through good or ill, 
Fate holds us in her cruel hand, 
She cannot loose the spirit band. 
I know when danger threatens thee 
I feel it though I cannot see. 
Love is the spirit's priceless gem 
No gold can buy or art of men, 
Though miles of earth between us spread 
The spirit spans it as a thread. 
I see thee on life's weary way 
And whisper "Soul, life's but a day : 
Just fit thy thought with spirit wings" 
And listen while the answer rings ! 
The mystical music of the spheres 
Is floating about for listening ears 
Our minor note is a glad refrain 
If the key is struck for spirit gain. 
No bound for the spirit is ever laid down, 
This love of our souls is life's brilliant crown. 



Page Eighteen 



CHRISTMAS 

"WrOULD you know the Christmas stor)^ 
How our Christ in all His glory 

Came on earth to dwell ? 
How He came in guise most lowly, 
While faith has grown so slowl}^ — slowly, 

Time alone can tell. 

Now, His love is power compelling, 
Now, His peace all joy excelling 

Whispers in your soul. 
Days of Days, this joyous season, 
Christmas is the feast of reason. 

List the music roll ! 

Christmas with long hope outstretching. 
Christmas with the merry fetching 

Of greens and berries red. 
Hear the message Christmas brings, 
While every mortal gladly sings. 

Echoes the ages sped. 

Life is old and life is new. 

So our Christmas tried and true 

Is fresh to 3^ou and I. 
Christmas ! cheer of all life's days ! 
Keep Christmas in your heart always. 

And so bid sorrow fly. 



Page Nineteen 



NEW YE AR ! 

T^EW YEAR comes on brilliant pinions, 

Hope, it clearly sings, 
Heed it now, you listless millions, 
While the joy bell rings! 

Life and breath to you is given 

While the seconds run. 
Be not like dumb cattle driven, 

Idling in the sun. 

Up, to work ! the year is calling, 

Time is now your own, 
Seconds slip like water falling, 

Deeds are yours alone. 

Deeds to onward sing for ages, 

As the year must roll, 
Golden words on th' white pages 

Of the struggling soul. 



Page T\Centy 



EASTER 

A GAIX the wondrous Easter day 

Whispering cheer, 
Again the thought of Easter day 

Whispering cheer, 
Oh ! the joyous Easter morning 

Whispering cheer, 
Oh ! the peace on all hearts dawning 

Whispering cheer. 
Oh ! the knowledge and tlie power 

Whispering cheer. 
Oh ! the earthly fleeing hour 

Whispering cheer, 
Oh ! the mystery and glory. 
Do you realize the story. 

Whispering cheer ? 
Oh I our Saviour, Lord and King, 
What tribute can we to Thee bring? 
Oh ! we can only lisp and sing 
W'hile the Easter joy bells ring- 
Whispering peace. 



Page Twenty-one 



ST. VALENTINE'S DAY 

J\ mystery lurks in St. Valentine's day, 

A magic of life and of love, 
With gay little cupid flitting along, 
On Valentine's day with a dove. 

Saint Valentine sharpens his arrows gold, 
And hides them in flowers gay. 

Saint Valentine's heart can never grow old, 
He is new every day, to stay. 

Saint Valentine whispers to you today, 

To you he is calling now ! 
Just catch from his heart a golden ray, 

And bind it in Love's true vow. 

Saint Valentine breathes on roses true. 

They live in your soul for aye, 
While flowers may blossom ages through^ 
Love blooms in your heart today. 



Page TNi?enty-t«?o 



MEMORIAL DAY 

/V day of promise, looking onward, 

A day of love, while looking back, 
And now we weave a floral guard. 
Because we love the souls we lack. 

Oh ! spirits just beyond our vision, 
Now lisp a word to us we pray, 

Could we but comprehend the lesion, 
Content would with us ever stay. 

We want to pierce the certain portal. 

We do not wait with trust serene. 
Is it because we are weary mortals, 

And life a short and wayward dream? 

A single flower or garland given — 
With memory and love combined, 

With promise true of mortal riven, 
A flower is love and hope entwined. 

To our loved ones we give the token, 
Of faith and hope in after life. 

The gates of death to them are open — 
And flowers breathe eternal life. 



Page Twentj>-tKr€ 



THE SEASONS 

OILVER river softly lapping 

At the banks of flowery Spring, 
Singing birds' wings swiftly tapping 
Gentle airs, that fragrance fling. 

Slow and languid Summer river, 

Banks for thy soft touch creep down. 

Verdant leaves are all aquivcr, 
Listening for thy healing sound. 

Autumn river — Oh the splendor ! 

Of thy flashing, brilliant tide. 
Fleeting mortals tribute render 

To the beauty of thy pride. 

'Neath the frost king's ermine glory 
Flows the river restless, still — 

Winter is a crystal story 
Whitest fairies do its will. 



Page T-vJanty-four 



SPRING 

i^H, the wild sweet song now singing, 

'Tis spring's mad music ringing, 
The bees and birds are now awinging, 
While flowers their incense flinging. 
For spring is ever singing, 

Of spring. 

Just spring. 

Oh, the maddening blossom's fragrance, 
Oh, the rushing brook's wild radiance, 
Oh, the longing for soul vagrance. 
Oh. the wild, compelling fragrance 

Of spring, 

Just spring. 

For the month of all the seasons, 
Without seeming rh3^me or reasons, 
With cold winter has no leisons, 

Oh spring, 

Just spring. 

And spring with her maddening fling, 
Now whispering gayly of souls awing, 
A promise spring holds for everything, 
An immortal hope is the tune spring sings. 

Oh spring. 

Just spring. 



Page Tv7enty-five 



SUMMER 

OUMMER with her wanton breeze 

Hums melodies, 
She whispers to the listening leaves 
And lisps of seas. 

When over mountains slip the dawn 

Waking flowers, 
And strips the diamonds from the lawn 

With passing hours. 

Oh Summer with your torrid heat 

And languid days 
You trip the ready willing feet 

With lulling lays. 

Now Summer sweetest season stay 

With us forever 
We love your warm delightful sway 

But Winter never. 

The sparkling river changing ever, 

Echoes the sky 
And hills the rich plains always sever 

Seemingly nigh. 

Oh Summer with your murmur merry 

Soft on the breeze 
Your anthem to each soul must vary 

Whispering trees. 



Page Twent5>-six 



AUTUMN 

A UTUMN with her brilliant wings, 

Scatters leaves apace, 
While the wandering west wind sings, 
See them madly race? 

The leaves are summer's pages 

A singing in the sun. 
And leaves have waved for ages. 

So the records run. 

Each leaf now holds its story, 

Whispered by the breeze, 
Do you catch the glor)^ 

Of the brilliant trees? 

Leaves but lisp the echo 

From the mystic land. 
And faintly beat the measure 

To an unseen hand. 



Page TvJenty-se^en 



THE COLD 

T^HE crystal, clear, and cruel cold 

Now clasps with icy fingers. 
And steals the heart of life, so bold. 

The bitter cold still lingers. 
From out Avide space, beyond the pole. 

Where spirits never shiver, 
The flesh of nature feels the cold. 

And calls to Heaven's giver. 
The cold Avith bitter, cruel power, 

Downs vintage, fruit and flower, 
While winter rules its savage hour, 

For cold is a cruel dower. 

The swift, wild fingers of the cold, 
Slip through the smallest crevice. 

While hanging on the house so old 
A fringe of magic device. 

Like diamonds bright they sparkle now 
The moon shines silver clear. 

And mortals shiver while they vow. 
The awful cold is here. 

But when the soul of mortal man. 

Absorbs the frigid feeling, 
And love for others never can 

Slip into earthly dealing. 

Oh, cold of soul ! Oh, hell bought soul ! 

No earthly power can move you, 
For hell is cold as minted gold. 

While frozen deeds pursue the true. 

Page Twenty -eigKt 



SNOW FLAKES 

\ curtain of the drifting snow came floating 
from the skies^ 
And all the trees on all the hills were hidden 

from our eyes, 
The million, billion tiny flakes of white and 

fringy snow, 
Are dancing like the fairies gay — in rings of 
joy they go. 

They are so wdiite, so pure, so cold, they chill 

my soul with fears, 
These swinging, airy sprites that look like 

frozen tears, 
A drifting on and on they go, then cover 

mother earth, 
They seem to shout and laugh with glee and 

dance in maddest mirth. 

Oh ! little tiny snowflakes dear, each has its 

magic marking. 
And all obey the strict command, to work 

without much larking. 
And now brown earth is like a dream, in 

bridal pure and white. 
She's waiting for her royal king, and spring's 

the bridal bright. 



Page Twent>>-nine 



SNOW FLAKES (Continued) 

But waiting for the chilly snow to melt in 

rapture warm, 
Is hard for mortals — earth has charms that 

causes us alarms, 
But snowflakes drift in feathery white o'er all 

the hidden flowers 
We wait for joy and love to come, and 

spring's own magic hours. 

Oh ! snowflake airy nothing, cold, adrift on 

breezes magic. 
Could we but catch your history true, your 

story would be tragic, 
The snowflakes dance and spin and float 

above and all around. 
Then like the mortal part of men, they settle 

on the ground. 
Then up they go when gay Spring calls, in 

voice of melting power. 
Again in clouds of wondrous hue they deck 

the sunset hour. 



Page TKirty 



TIME 

T 1ST to the unceasing flow 
■^ Of time ! 

The rhyme 
Is smooth as early morning glow 

This time 

The rhyme 
So softly sweet, the whisper low 

Of time. 

The rhyme, 
The very rhythm of life is fleet 

Of time. 

The rhyme, 
Some seconds speed like magic dart. 
The while some drag the like black art, 

The rhyme 

Of time- 
Where can we find the rhyme of time ? 
Somewhere perhaps we'll hear the chime, 

The rhyme 

Of time, 
With whisper low and silver sweet, 
The cadence musical complete, 

The rhyme 

Of time. 
The mystic murmur laps the shore 
Where time is lost forever more. 



Page TKirty-one 



TRUE HONOR 

^pHE Hudson glows with glory 
Between its mountains blue, 
Our hearts sing with its story 
Of loyal men and true. 

\\c trace their steps with wonder 
O'er earth and forest wide, 
We ever thus can ponder 
How right is loyal pride. 

No quarter they demanded, 
Each man a hero brave, 
They never were disbanded 
Till glory freedom gave. 



Psgc TKirty-tT?o 



GEORGE WASHINGTON 

February 22nd 

npO Washington, with the glorious soul, 

A tribute we pay today, 
While memories down the years must roll, 
His power no king can display. 

With knowledge and wisdom and love for men. 

This man, with insight so keen, 
The men he knew, and he trusted to them. 

To his army so true and lean. 

George Washington risked his life for us. 

His fortune was given too. 
But his faith in God was a loving trust, 

He was true as the stars in blue. 

The freedom he won with bitter toil, 

Today is our song of life — 
A baptism of blood has sealed our soil 

And freedom from cruel strife. 

A tribute we pay to this wonderful man. 

In each letter we send away. 
To George Washington and his loyal band 

We are leal to their love for aye. 

Oh marvelous man ! soul free and serene, 

Oh, spirit from earth coil winging. 
Just whisper adowm on a rainbow sheen 

That you hear your children singing. 

Page TKirt3;-tKree 



THE CAMP 

TTNDER the stars Camp Whitman lay, 

The bustling day was over, 
The sun with ceaseless golden ray 
Had slipped away to cover. 

Again the stars in field of blue. 

Over our world is spread, 
And men, forever leal and true, 

Their promise again have said. 

Where men of old in tatters fought, 

These men are camping now. 
To our brave land, so dearly bought, 

These men have given their vow. 

God save our land from lust of power, 

God keep our flag from stain. 
Let each man have his life's own hour, 

This is the camp's refrain. 

But should the raging Godless \^'ar 

Set foot in our dear land. 
The stars and stripes shall wave once more 

O'er Whitman's loval band. 



Page TKirty-fc 



THE WAR 

"MTTLD war with warriors swarm, 

Wan with their weight of woe ] 
Droo]) while the leaden storm 
Makes their red lifeblood flow. 

Women with wailing woe. 

\\'eeping with tearless eyes, 
\\'oefully calling low 

To our Father in the skies. 

Oh ! the children hear them calling 
For their life, the gift divine ! 

By cruel war they're falling, falling— 
When will war to peace resign? 

Heavenly Father! Hear us! Hear us! 
Unto Thee we plead and call. 

Spare the children, 

Save the people. 
From the awful pain and woe. 
Of the deadly, raging torrent, 

Of the war. 



Page TKirty.five 



A CRY 

\JLT HO can measure joy or woe, who may reckon 
agony ? 

In fields where brave men fall and lie asleep, or moan- 
ing cry, 

In delirium for the hands of the mother who moans 
alone 

For the son of her soul, with anguish bought and with 
anguish sold 

To the ruthless god of war. 

So the women weep and the women cry to the 

God on High, 
Have pity! Have pity on the souls we love! 

Oh God on High ! 
The God lost to Him we must cry and turn our eyes 

to God on High. 
Our fathers, our brothers, our husband and sons, 

Oh God on High ! 
Have pity ! have mercy ! to Thee we come ! 
For the idol of power is forever dumb. 
The anguished fields and blood soaked ground, 
The men and their flesh scattered all around. 

Oh God on High ! 



Page TKirt5>-six 



Can this ruthless idol of power 
Endure another wild hour? 
**The earth is the Lord's and He made it," 
But men have turned it into a pit 
Where the ruthless god of war 
Tramples the wine of life ! 

Oh God on High ! 
Have pity and hear our cry. 
We turn to Thee. Hear us Good Lord — Hear us. 

Oh God on High. 



Page TKirty-se-^en 



THE MYSTERY 

XT 1 STORY holds many a mystery ; 

The greatest mystery of all history 

Is death. 
On the pages see it written. 
How the foe was badly smitten, 

By death 
Who can tell us of this shadow 
Lingering on life's pathway low. 

This death ? 
A fact it is to each and all, 
How shall we answer the sure call 

Of death? 
Just a flitting of life's breath, 
So the wisest gravely saith, 

Is death. 
But the spirit loving, longing, 
Wakes into a brighter morning, 

Through death. 
The soul will wing away victorious. 
Into a spirit realm, most glorious. 

Through death. 
So this black death is but transition, 
When flesh and blood have filled their mission, 

Through death. 



Page Thirty-eigKt 



JUST A WHISPER 

TUST a whisper on the wind, 

Hear it now^? 
Like a note of Jenny Lind, 

An old vow^ 

On the w41d wind's wanton wings, 

Hear it now? 
Love and longing ever sings. 

Magic vow. 

Do not whisper to the wind. 

Hear it now? 
As a wizard it is kind. 

What a row. 

Lisping vows it never heard. 

Hear it now^? 
Faster than a winged bird, 

Hear it now? 



Page TKirt^-nine 



SILENCE 

OILENCE is the truest singer, 

Words oft blur the sense, 
The golden tones forever linger, 
Soundless recompense. 

All the silent sunset splendor, 

Day's vast funeral pyre. 
In no words can mortal render, 

Flaming, leaping fire. 

Listen to the silence calling! 

Music all its own, 
Silent as the snowflake falling, 

Powerful undertone. 

Silence holds all joy unbounded, 

Silent is dark hell. 
With silence deep is love surrounded. 

Silence few can spell. 



Page Forty 



EVENING 

VriGHT crept over the river 

In floating airy clouds, 
With many a pause and shiver, 

Now field, now mountain shrouds 
While lights on the shore a quiver, 

In pools of golden light. 
And water, the earth's — life giver, 

Sings ever to the night! 

Oh, water with ceaseless motion, 

Oh, clouds so soft and gray. 
Oh, foaming, restless commotion, 

You gleam not so in the day. 
The stars now peep in the ocean, 

Like a luminous, golden ray, 
And we w^onder at the notion, 

So the river glides away. 

Singing their songs forever, 

The waves, in merry glee, 
Dance in wild dissever 

Now watch them as they flee! 
Oh music that wearies never, 

Oh, mystery, dear to me, 
Sing of the long forever. 

When no dark night shall be. 



Page Forty-one 



YOUR MESSxA.GE 

T 1ST the song that love is singing, 

Catch the mother's crooning song, 
Count the pearls that sorrow's stringing, 
Con from suffering, patience strong. 

'J'hen in words with music ringing. 
Soul free, winged like a bird, 

On the air your message flinging, 
Ijfe will sing it far and wide. 

Witching song — forever true. 
Written for each soul anew. 



THE PRESENT 

OOFTLY on the shore of now 
The present lives and dies, 
Do not ask me w^hy or how, 
The past forever sighs. 

Proudly now the future cries, 

I promise everything, 
The past has given you but lies, 

I only joy shall bring. 



Page Forty-tv?o 



TWO WORDS 

lLXOPI{ and love — dear life's own jewels, 

Hope to beckon, love to crown, 
v^hare and double these bright jewels. 
Sweeter love than wide renown. 

Golden words and diamond weighted 

Soft atwinkle like a star, 
With rich melody they're freighted. 

Mystic music floats afar. 

Words so gay, w4th laughter ringing, 

Press the air like winged birds. 
All your pulses are asinging — 

Madest, little, merry words. 



Page Fort3)-three 



OUR WAY 

'T'HE brook in merry leaping glee, 

Whispers its message to you and me, 
We're a part of the ceaseless, vast domain. 
This is ever my glad refrain. 

You and I this earth dance over, 
We flit about like a restless rover. 
Let us sing our song both loud and clear, 
So it will echo on for many a year. 

With swirl and eddy and ripple gay, 
Onward we wind our changing way, 
A mystery strange as the stars above, 
We're held in place by the hand of love. 

Our earth would be a desert gray. 

If water and souls should from her stray, 

A little while we linger here, 

Then leap to the call of the upper sphere. 



Page Fort3>-tour 



A SONG 

OWEET roses red, and pink and white, 

Pour from their hearts a fragrance rare, 
Indeed ! it floats in summer light, 
And all the world is strangely fair. 

In the fair summer time — 

We chase the happy flying hours 

With merry hearts, and feet that rhyme 
With nature and her brilliant flow^ers. 

We watch the robin's airy flight, 
And wish that we had wings to soar 

Up in that vault of pure delight. 
And our heart full of song to pour. 

Out in the quiet and listening air, 

Perchance, in that bright glowing dome, 

Our restless hearts would catch the air, 
The spheres are singing as they roam. 



Page Forty-five 



SILENT WITNESS 

■JLJOUNTAINS are silent witness 

How earth once tossed in pain 
None questions now their fitness, 
Or right to guard the plain. 

They hear the wind's fierce whisper, 
It's call to mother earth, 
It lisps of planet sister. 
Or dashes by in mirth. 

They catch the sun's first glory, 
They catch the eve's last moan 
They are a wordless stor^, 
Our mountains errand and lone. 



Page Fortj^-six 



HOPE 

TJOPE is a wondrous power in life 

Dispelling awful gloom, 

Hope sings amid most awful strife 

And lisps of flowers in bloom. 

And hope sings on amid all storm. 

With cheerful note and clear, 
Now, hope is love in truest form. 

And dries wild sorrow's tear. 

Hope whispers in our flutteruig heart. 

Of joy and peace serene. 
Because from peace and joy we part, 

Hope is content, now seen. 

Hope with her silver tones so true. 

Dispel all mortal fear. 
Just list the song! 'tis sung for you, 

Dear hope has no compeer. 

A\'ould you but catch the wondrous gleam 

Of hope's ecstatic power. 
This fleeting life would seem the dream 

And death the crowning hour. 



Page Forty-seven 



FEAR 

T^HOU hollow eyed and haggard crone 

That clutchest one by the throat, 
As cold thy touch as Andes crown, 
Thou killest every hope. 

Thou keepest pace with many a soul 

On life's mysterious way, 
And eagerly thou takest dole 

E*en love to thee must pay. 

The leaping pulses thou dost chill, 
Thou dastard hell-hound fleet. 

Thy deadly glance all joy doth kill. 
But faith can fear defeat. 



Page Forty-eight 



WHAT AM I ? 

/^H! this incomprehensible I 

To you and me it is ever nigh, 
It dulls our ears to many a cry 
Our vision it blinds as sorrow goes by. 
The question we ask, and ever ply 
The wise for the answer. ''What am I ?" 
They know no more than low or high 
Of this wonderful, wonderful I. 
Only a name and many now try 
To answer your question with this tie : 
The endless question keeps on for aye 
It's always with us until we die, 
This queer, uncertain and restless I. 
To eternity's vast shore they fly 
This countless, hurrying, feeble I. 
When in the grave we quietly lie. 
Will we then be rid of ceaseless I? 
Whither do I go and whence came I? 
Are the same questions we often cry. 

A bit of the infinite am I 

This is the cause of my eager sigh 

Ever and always — What am I. 



Page Forty-nine 



SUCCESS 

'TTHE joy of success is seeking, 

Sweet is her voice ; 
She wakes not the sluggard sleeping, 

Stern is her choice. 

O'er hill and valley you follow, 

Heed not fatigue ; 
In th' mire of despair you wallow, 

Still one of th' league. 

Success is knowing and reaping, 

All toil is hard ; 
Then capture success, tho' fleeting. 

Time's the only guard. 



A GOLDEN CHAIN 

A ROUND the circle now we run, 
'Tis morning noon and night. 
Another day so quickly spun, 
A chain of seconds bright. 

Then lift your eyes above the earth. 

No spirit home is here. 
We are of a celestial birth. 

Dull doubt shall disappear. 



Page Fifty 



THE INFINITIVE 

nPHE infinitive flits with airy glee, 
Merrily singing on land and sea, 

To be; to be. 
Promising gaily in liquid tone, 
Winging its way from zone to zone, 

To be ; to be. 
Always tomorrow and never today, 
Ever to flit and never to stay. 

To be; to be. 
Finding no rest for foot or wing, 
Onward forever in its mad swing, 

To be; to be. 
The restless waters of airy space, 
Like the dove of old finds no resting place. 

To be ; to be. 
Infinitive rest in the land of now, 
It is Hope and Love will show you how. 



Page Fift>>-ona 



WHERE? 

"YTOU may wander o'er the earth 

Seeking peace, 

But, surcease 
Of wildest sorrow has no birth. 
In any place of earth, 
In your heart, the tiny seed. 
Helping some one in dire need. 

May come peace. 
You never can forget 
Oh ! the aching, wild regret — 
For the word unsaid. 



N' 



VACATION IS OVER 

OW that vacation is over 
And idleness past, 
I'm no more a rover 

But hitched to my task. 
Could I flit on a bird's wing 

So swiftly away. 
With joy would my heart sing, 

Forever I'd stray. 
O'er moor and o'er mountain 

Fd wander for aye. 
No dream or sweet fountain 

My thirst could allay. 
But my duty is calling. 

And service looks gay. 
The wild is appaling 

I'll live in each day. 

Page Fifty-two 



COAL 

OEE the magic of the forest 

In the burning coal, 
See the leaping sunset flaming 

In the burning coal, 
See long summers yield their treasure 

In the burning coal, 
Days and years beyond all measure 

In the burning coal, 
See the toilers painful seeking 

For the wondrous coal. 
See the men with anxious reaping 

Harvesting the coal. 
So our winter of distress 

Because of burning coal, 
A million workers without rest 

Because of magic coal, 
Cheat the frost king's frigid fury 

With the burning coal. 
Every judge and every jury 

Agrees on burning coal, 
And love, the gayest little rover, 

Uses hearts for coal, 
So the new and ancient lover 

Offers cupid coal. 



Page Fifty-tKree 



THE FAMILY TREE 

nPHE leaves are singing a mystical song, 

You can hear it now as you pass along; 
We are tied, they sing, in merry glee. 
We are tied by love to our family tree. 

If you can solve the puzzle of how and why 
We dance so merrily, up near the sky, 
Then you've answered th' riddle of all th' years. 
And have flecked from life tormenting fears. 

The family tree is as old as Eve, 
And sadly did she the gay garden leave ; 
Now WTite on your leaf, in colors true, 
Life's what you make it, all the way through. 

But leaves may flutter, and leaves may dance, 
It's a weary world if you call it chance ; 
The family tree must be rooted strong. 
Faith holding a charm that keeps from wrong. 



Page Fifty-four 



MY TYPEWRITER 

#^H, typewriter tell me in letters true, 

And words that spell happiness lasting for you, 
But the typewriter clicks a merry sound. 
That's not my duty, you see I am bound, 
I click and click to every refrain, 
Fm but the letters, you are the brain, 
But I'm good at figures and letters too. 
If only you'd hit what is meant for you. 

Speed is good, but a record for truth 

Seems to me to fit each one for sooth, 

All letters are here at your command. 

Awaiting the touch of your nimble hand, 

Just fit the letters in w^ords of light. 

They'll flash on the page like diamonds bright, 

Now love and truth and a joyous hope 

i\re letters blended in life's wide scope. 



Page Fifty-five 



A POSTAGE STAMP 

\ postage stamp whispered this message to me, 

As he lifted his face with a smile, 
I'm made thus to carry the letters, you see, 
For many, and many a mile. 

Could you look in the faces that I have seen. 
As their lips just touched my pale face, 

All the emotions that flit on the screen 
Is seen, as I slip into place. 

Now over the measureless miles must I wend, 
And through the trough of the restless sea. 

And sometimes the heaviest sorrows I mend, 
I'm a postage stamp, bought by thee. 

A postage stamp sticks to its duty true 

And carries the letters, both far and near — 

What does a postage stamp mean to you? 
It means a message from love most dear. 



Page Fifty-six 



OUR CITY STREETS 

npHE autos come from all directions, 
Sounding horns of all inflections 

Upon our city streets. 
The fleet, the useful and the merry, 
Are madly racing for the ferry 

Along our city streets. 
Now try to dodge these fleeing cars, 
I reckon you will see the stars 

Upon our city streets. 
A poor lone horse in startled manner. 
Upon the bricks his hoofs w^ill hammer, 

Adown our city street. 
And trolley cars, with din and clatter. 
Big busses, too, do madly scatter, 

The people on the street. 
The traf^c cop, with eagle eye, 
Now watches every passer by 

Upon the city street. 
A tiny rod, like a stick of candy, 
Waves a warning flag to judge or dandy, 

At the meeting of the streets. 
The law was made by Uncle Sam, 
To keep some order in a jam. 

Upon our city streets. 
Oh, for a place where one may cross. 
Nor fear their life will be the cost. 

On the same old narrow street. 



Page Fifty-seven 



JUST FEET 

XJEAR the clip, clop, 

Of the feet upon the street; 
Up and down, hear them go, 
Now so swiftly, now so slow. 
The little, tiny, tripping feet, 
On the hard and stony street; 
Now hear them go, fast and slow. 
To the time of clip, clop, 
The heavy tread of weary feet. 
Forever dragging on the street 
The man with weight of thought and care, 
The changing markets bravely dare. 
While life and joy and love careen 
In this mad and flying scene. 
Just hear them go — in a row. 
Now they straggle fast and slow, 
Hear the clip, clop — clip, clop. 
Of the feet upon the street. 
Oh, the never ceasing sound, 
With the pavement ever found, 
Every mortal son of man 
Now dancing in his little span. 
Goes clip, clop, adown the street. 
Ever moving his two feet. 
The soldiers with their martial tread. 
Now makes us shiver with wild dread. 



Page Fift:?.eight 



As they go marching down the street, 
Their feet keeps time to music sweet. 
But here we go fast and slow% 
Just clip, clop — clip, clop, in a row. 
All the maddening live long time, 
To this tune our feet will rhyme, 
Up and down old streets forever, 
This clip, clop, varies never. 



WHAT'S THE NEWS? 

/^OOD morning ladies! What's the news? 

The reporter whispered gaily. 
Dame gossip sends you her reviews, 
She knows I'm on a daily. 

Now who is married, who is dead ? 

And who has been aflirting. 
And how Miss Nancy earns her bread, 

And who their work is shirking? 

Dame gossip went a dow^n the street 

Aflaunting her gay banner ! 
The graces all took to their feet, 

They feared her fetching manner. 



Page Fifly-nine 



WHAT'S THE NEWS (continued) 

Dame gossip has the sharpest eye, 

And ears that hear a whisper, 
IvOok out ! she'll trip you with a sigh, 

Her tongue can raise a blister. 

A scourge she's been to mortal men 
Since poor Eve first made dresses. 

She peeps into the snugest den, 
Then shouts aloud her guesses. 

The reporter holds dame gossip's hands, 
She's a witch that's always young, 

She flirts with men in many lands, 
And lisps in their own tongue. 

Few men can brave her fearsome frown, 
Th' frail women she bowls over. 

She's up to tricks of all renown, 
She's wilder than a rover. 

Now pick the news from her reviews. 
In contrast sharp she'll write, 

Be thankful if she'll omit you, 
But keep the dame in sight. 



Page Sixty 



A DAILY STORY 

PI INNER is a daily story. 

Seemingly it has no glory, 
Just dinner for to-day, 
Admitting no delay. 
Count the steps for any dinner, 
If you can you are a winner. 

Soup from beef and garden blended, 
Meat Vv^ith every care attended, 
The hands that deck your table 
Are nimble, sure and able. 
Count the steps for any dinner. 
If you can you are a winner. 

Bread must be both white and sweet. 

And the butter just complete, 

And vegetables in season 

Or what is the reason? 

Count the steps for any dinner, 

If you can you are a winner. 



Page Sixty-one 



A DAILY STORY (continued) 

Silver like a shining glass, 
Linen no one can surpass, 
Salad made for epicure, 
Olive oil must be quite pure. 
Count the steps for any dinner, 
If you can j^ou are a winner. 

The cream without the slightest taint, 
And coffee that would please a saint, 
Tropic fruit from fairest isle. 
You never think it worth your while 
To count the steps in getting dinner, 
If you could you'd be a winner. 

One must be both wise and clever 
To have the meals just right forever, 
Some one fails to be on time, 
Therefore food and cook won't rhyme. 
Now count the steps in getting dinner, 
If you can you are a winner. 



FINIS 



Page Sixt5?-t^^»o 



CHAS. E. SPAIGHT 

Printer 

Beacon, New York 



L'BRARY OF CONGRESS 

018 395 633 4 " 



